Curious Attractions
by Soot
Summary: Combeferre/Enjolras slash. Enjolras is hiding something which is hurting him and, in a moment when his guard falls, Combeferre gains a little insight into his usually guarded mind.


Title: Curious Attractions

Summary: Combeferre/Enjolras slash. Enjolras is hiding something which is hurting him and, in a moment when his guard falls, Combeferre gains a little insight into his usually guarded mind.

Disclaimer: I do not own and never will.

Warning: Slash, don't like don't read.

A/N: I would love to iLikeMuffins100 thank for her wonderful and constructive review and private messages. I have thus updated and hoping that it is much more accurate now. Well - one can hope it is. Lol.

…

Enjolras sat with his usual air of detachment when concerning love. Combeferre never doubted that he felt love, but Enjolras always hid those types of feelings unless he was ill or off guard; both rare occasions and the insight was not much.

Sat across the table from Enjolras in their most noted café, Combeferre reclined into his chair, mimicking his friends who also reclined in their chairs scattered around the room, chatting to one another about trivial matters. No one after the demanding activities of the day had it left in them to talk heatedly about serious matters – all except Enjolras who he had deemed indefatigable. Even after the annual meeting of the Friends of the ABC he seemed able to carry on working while everyone else was only thinking of food, booze and bed.

Well; in truth, Combeferre was thinking of food, bed, and Enjolras – not necessarily in that order.

Everyone, except Enjolras who had his head buried in a pile of paper and ink, seemed to be enjoying themselves. One man had his wife with him. Combeferre did not know them personally, but he had seen them before and knew that they were newly-weds. Most could tell they were newly-weds through their almost childish behaviour; always grinning, smirking, their hands brushing and the compliments that were passed.

Enjolras had argued against the man's wife being present; most passionatly. Finally, after achieving nothing, he relent. Combeferre saw it more as a compromise so a civil war between the Friends of the ABC wouldn't break out, but naturally Enjolras saw it as nothing more than a defeat. He was going to be insufferable later. Combeferre watched Enjolras closely. He looked calm and composed, but he knew inside he was fuming. Calm and collected on the outside with perfectly combed hair; but breaking expensive china plates and hard wood chair on the inside.

What caused the room to be filled with whistles though was when the couple gave up trying to keep their hands to their individual persons and kissed passionately.

Enjolras looked up with all the new found commotion going on.

Then his guard fell.

Combeferre could have fallen off his chair in shock. Envy? Enjolras was envious? Why? Many saw him as a God, his beauty and radiance striking all who met him; even striking those who walk past him in the street. He had seen many heads turn for Enjolras in the past. This and he didn't fit into the saying that those who were natural stunner's had an awful personality. Far from it. His personality, when he has not been distracted whilst scribing away, matched his beauty. He had friends who thought the world of him and could have any girl he wanted. So why would he be envious?

Combeferre decided to find out for himself.

Enjolras's guard fell only for a moment. It was fleeting but it was insight enough to know that what ever Enjolras was envious about, it was hurting him. The pain had been apparent in his eyes. Combeferre would have loved nothing more than to just walk over and pull Enjolras into a hug, but naturally he could not do that. Not only was it not the done thing, but he could not express such tender emotions publicly to a member of the same sex. Too many ideas could be gathered from it; despite that their assumptions would have been right.

Combeferre leant across the table and tapped the table lightly above the parchment. Enjolras didn't look up. After he had regained his guard he had buried his head back in his work, pretending that it had never happened and hoping that no one had seen. Now Combeferre was tapping on the table to get his attention, he feared that Combeferre had seen what he truly felt and wanted to question him about it.

"Enjolras". Combeferre said after the tapping had not worked. "Enjolras!"

Enjolras looked up at him and, without speaking a word, bent himself back over his work and continued scribing away furiously at his next speech. Combeferre admired his dedication to his work, but he also felt insulted that he was being ignored. Enjolras had looked up at him so the decision not to answer had been chosen over answering or even a verbal acknowledgement. Rude, yes, but when his guard faulted before … that stuck with Combeferre and made him remain seated where he was so to keep an eye on him. There was something he wasn't saying, and his mind could not stop from stressing to him that it was hurting him.

The newly-wed couple continued to inflict torture on one another before, finally, Enjolras had had enough and, hastily gathering up his papers and ink and shoving them all into a satchel, stormed out the café. Combeferre watched him go with wide eye shock.

"What's his problem?" Courfeyrac asked, his brows furrowed, eyes glowing in amusement.

"I don't know". Combeferre lied, or at least thought he had. "I'll go after him; make sure he's all right". Before Courfeyrac or anyone else could stop him, Combeferre was out of the door and running down the road in the direction that he thought that Enjolras would have taken. He thought he saw an elongated shadow disappearing around the corner so he pursued it hoping both that he wasn't imagining it and the person he was pursuing was indeed Enjolras.

After rounding the far corner, Combeferre could see that he had not imagined the shadow of a man. Enjolras's flowing gold hair was fanned out and bounced as he walked, the dim light cast reflected off it. He had lost the black silk ribbon that he used to tie it back.

"Enjolras". He called out trying to attract his attention. "Enjolras!" Enjolras never even slowed down. He kept walking with his shoulders hunched as though he had not heard anything. Combeferre shook his head and ran after him. "Enjolras! Stop please, I beg you. In the name of our friendship!"

Enjolras stopped and turned to face him. His expression was one of defence and, if pressed, defiance. Combeferre was still going to press him for an answer anyway regardless.

"Is there something wrong?" Combeferre asked, worried and wanting to get straight to the point. The streets were never exactly safe, even for groups of young men who were physically able to defend themselves.

"No". Enjolras replied defensively. "Why would there be?"

"You have been acting very strange recently; especially around me. Why?" Combeferre asked. He remembered all the times Enjolras had cold shouldered him and ignored him completely as though he was not there. It made him think that he had done something wrong and hurt him.

"I have not been acting strange. It is you who has been exhibiting peculiar behaviour". Enjolras replied dryly.

"I am not the only one worried about you. Others have noticed it too. Please – something is hurting you – tell me". Combeferre pressed. Enjolras tried to turn and walk away. He never expected Combeferre to grab him by the the clothing covering his shoulders and slam him up against a wall. Fire burned inside him and Combeferre could see it in his eyes, but he didn't care; he wanted an answer. "It's not good to keep everything to yourself. Why do you refuse to let anyone close to you? Stop being stubborn and tell me".

"Love is a mere distraction". Enjolras replied darkly. "I do not have time to consider or indulge in such trivial activities. There are more important matters at hand".

"Trivial? You forgot to mention frivolous." Combeferre replied.

Enjolras's eyes burned anew. "You are quite right, i did. Leave; and content yourself with illusions of grandeur that you believe to be love, for i fail to see what is fulfilling about fleeting romances".

"You can be so inhuman at times". Combeferre whispered, saddened. "There are times when i could swear that you have a heart of ice and stone" Enjolras's eyes lost their fire and darkened. "Though, i must confess that stone and ice, though strong, can be brittle". Combeferre couldn't stop the words from leaving his mouth, his heart gaining control over his logic. "I can only pray that someone can melt it's icy captivity before it is shattered and is no more. You will lose more of yourself in one day than what you fear that you will lose during a lifetime of loving, of holding someone you cherish close".

"I do not think ..."

"Wouldn't creating a better France for the one you love though make the success all the more sweeter?"

Enjolras was taken back with the last question. It was not a foreign question; he had pondered it during the dark nights when his mind had been reeling from the events of meetings and speeches and was consequently unable to find rest. He had often sat staring into nothing, candlelight dancing across his tired face, his hair loose and falling about his shoulders and his eyes half shut, his mind attacking feverishly every approach to the question but never produced an answer.

"I believe and live by my ideals..." Enjolras eventually answered.

"And love has no place". Combeferre finished. His mind kept screaming that Enjolras was hurting. He considered giving up for a brief moment, but then scolded himself. Enjolras's happiness was on the line, even if Enjolras didn't realise it himself. As a friend, he had a duty to see that Enjolras was happy, even if his future didn't lay with him. He had decided long ago that he would be happy if Enjolras was happy; he would be content with that even though it would break his heart. "

"Yes. The love for my country is all i need in this life".

"But France is not everything!" Combeferre argued, distraught at how little progress was being made.

"What would you know? You still believe and worship a false religion. Romance is not dead! It never existed! You are foolish Combeferre! Foolish and naieve. For one so intelligent, you live as though in a book, a story where justice always comes to those who deserve it! Look around you! Look around. I see none of that. None. Love does not exist. I see that every day. Take a stroll tomorrow and look at the Parisians that pass. There is no love. No compassion. Nothing but loathing and hatred. Love has no place in this life, and most certainly not in mine". Enjolras spat, venom lacing his words. To Combeferre, they felt like poison.

"What happened to you to make you hate and fear love?" Combeferre questioned, the question cutting. He watched Enjolras, his gaze a challenge to the blonde. Suddenly, all traces of anger left Enjolras's face and was replaced with immense sadness. The tension left Enjolras's muscles as he closed his eyes and his chin came to rest on his chest. "Enjolras; what happened?" Combeferre asked again, but this time loosening his hold on Enjolras's clothing and compassion lacing his voice.

"I feel in love and had my heart broken". Enjolras eventually replied nearly in a whisper. "There was a young man who went by the name of Antoine. I was 16 and he was 19. I didn't care for the age difference. I just knew that when I saw him I loved him. I thought about him every moment of every day. I couldn't help it. He was so beautiful. Enchanting. I gave him my heart and he crushed it. I told him. God, I was so stupid. It seemed like a good idea at the time. He got angry and beat me. He broke my arm. He said that he never wanted to see me again, and if he did he would tell others of what I was. An abomination". Enjolras paused and Combeferre thought he had finished. He was about to offer words of comfort but before he could Enjolrascontinued. "I wept. I lied about my injuries and found out a week later that Antoine had left town vowing never to return. The news doused any flame of hope I still carried that he would love me for who I was. The scars in my heart carved by him cut too deep for me to risk being hurt again".

Enjolras could not quite believe that he had just told Combeferre what he had kept secret for so long. He had told no one - yet one brief argument with Combeferre and he had got the whole story from him. He had never denied to himself that there had always been something about Combeferre that attracted him; but he buried the feelings and emotions beneath work, speeches and meetings. He never gave the feelings chance to bloom, to develop into something more meaningful. He had done it intentionally.

Enjolras had looked embarrassed, uncomfortable and hurt throughout his explanation and one time Combeferre could have sworn he saw a tear glide down Enjolras's smooth, ashen cheek. Combeferre found himself horrified at his friends ill treatment and guilty in himself for having demanded that Enjolras tell him, to divulge something so private and painful that Combeferre felt sickened by his own actions. His mind was spinning. How could someone reject one that's so beautiful it was as if god had carved him himself; sculpted him to be perfect, an example of beauty above all other.

Cold rain started to fall. Combeferre spared the sky a fleeting glance before he removed his hands from Enjolras and took a step back. "I suppose I should come clean too. It's only fair". Enjolras thought that their friendship was over upon hearing those words. He turned his head away disgusted with himself for having those emotions that were deemed wrong. He was considering fleeing from his friend when a cool, slender hand cupped his cheek and turned his head. Enjolras's eyes met Combeferre's. "I have kept a secret that I should have told you the day I first met you. I love you".

Enjolras felt his breath hitch in his throat. Combeferre thought that was a sign that he would reject him but as he removed his hand, Enjolras grabbed it with both of his own and held it tightly. "Really?" His voice was small, like that of an unsure child.

"Yes. From the moment I laid my eyes on you, you had my heart. You and you alone". Combeferre watched his face and, seeing what he thought was a trace of a smile, he took a hold of his arm in a tight grip and dragged him further into the poorly lit street before shoving Enjolras into a dark doorway and claiming his lips in a raw, passionate kiss. Combeferre's hands were instantly in Enjolras's blonde locks, tugging his head back with one hand so to establish the upper hand while the other continuously ran through the golden curls. His arm had slid across Enjolras's back making it so that Enjolras's head was tilted back and to the side. His tongue invaded Enjolras's mouth and brushed across the roof, causing Enjolras to moan deeply. He shuddered and trembled beneath Combeferre's touch, all the new sensations that he was now experiencing making his heart hammer and his mind to focus on nothing but Combeferre. Everything else became irrelevant and faded into the background.

Breaking the kiss, Combeferre looked at Enjolras to see what his response would be. He had always expected nothing short of being rejected, but when Enjolras raised a hand to his cheek and caressed it, his thumb drifting over his skin delicately, he felt relieved and his heart swelled. Enjolras was breathing heavy as he fought to regain control, his eyes glittering in the dark. He shifted in Combeferre's embrace so that he was stood up to his full height and no longer having to lean against the wall before he moved his hand from Combeferre's check to his neck. Combeferre watched him with a mixture of amazement and awe. Even in the dark Enjolras seemed to be as beautiful as he was in the day light; his touch like fire against his skin.

"I always thought it rained because you were sad". Combeferre whispered, the sound of rain falling on the cobbled street mixed with the sweet smell of freshness that accompanied it making him smile. He shuddered slightly.

Enjolras's fingers played with the hair on the back of his neck; a sensation that would have easily drove Combeferre crazy had it not been for the sudden departure of the hand. He nearly complained about the removal of the hand but found himself unable as Enjolras pressed his lips lightly to his own, initiating another kiss. This one though was more slow and delicate than the previous. This one, instead of portraying raw need and lust, symbolised undying love and tenderness.

Combeferre felt no impulse to rush what he had waited for for so long, but he reluctantly broke the kiss and met Enjolras's confused expression with quiet, soft words. "We should go somewhere more private". He told him, sensing that Enjolras thought that he had changed his mind on how he felt about him. "This is too public. Anyone could see us." As he said this he took Enjolras's hand and dragged him back out onto the dimly lit street, the cold rain soaking them both.

"My place or yours?"

End.


End file.
